


To Care for an Artist

by loveydoveyecstasy



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Artist AU, Charles is the quiet one, Fluff galore, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveydoveyecstasy/pseuds/loveydoveyecstasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is an art student working on a final project. Erik, his infinitely patient boyfriend, takes care of him when he forgets to eat or sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another AU to play around in. There's a seven year age difference between them, and the photo that inspired this can be found here: http://loveydoveyecstasy.tumblr.com/post/18599271521/thebetterpeople-james-mcavoy#notes
> 
> This is mostly just an excuse to write a lot of fluff. So enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to pop in and say that these chapters don't actually fully connect to each other, and probably won't be in any kind of order. They're just a series of events from this 'verse

Erik alternative loved and hated this time of year, when Charles had a major project to finish. He loved it because it was the most passionate Charles ever got, and he always managed to produce something beautiful in that time. Erik hated it because Charles had a tendency to get so absorbed in his art that he often forgot basic needs, like eating and showering.

Erik never understood how Charles did it. Of course, he didn’t have anything he was quite so passionate about. Sure, he had his music; but music for him was more of a hobby, a form of expression, rather than a passion. 

The one good thing about his music was that it could pull Charles out of his trance every single time. Whenever Erik played his violin, it was an unspoken conversation between them; Erik telling Charles it was time to come out of his studio, Charles resisting, refusing to come out until it was absolutely perfect. Erik would play harder, his violin speaking for him, demanding Charles come out of the room. He wouldn’t stop until he saw Charles standing in the doorway to his room, hair a tangled mess, beard wooly and in desperate need of a trim, arms crossed as he stared at Erik with tired eyes. 

Today was one of those days. When Charles finally leaned against his doorframe, Erik slowed his bow before stopping and setting both it and the instrument down, smiling at Charles. 

“There you are.”

“Hmm.” Charles hated being interrupted, especially when he had something good going. Erik didn’t care. Charles looked exhausted, and it had been days since he’d last seen Charles eat something of substance. 

“I was just about to fix dinner. Why don’t you go shower, and then we can eat?” 

Charles raised an eyebrow, silent for a few moments longer before finally smiling and pushing off of the doorframe. 

“Of course, pet.” 

Erik shivered, the endearment always getting to him. Charles gave him one last look, silently asking if he was going to join him. He didn’t move until Erik shook his head. Smiling to himself, Charles made his way back to the bathroom attached to their bedroom.

While he went to shower, Erik put his violin and bow up and toed out of his shoes before heading to the kitchen. He was suddenly grateful for having gone to the market the morning before, when he’d been tasked with working at home. Their refridgerator was filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as a few pounds of fish, chicken, and beef. Humming to himself, Erik selected the cut of salmon he’d purchased, a lemon, lettuce, carrots, almonds, broccoli and asparagus, and laid them out on the counter. He also grabbed the box of instant rice from the pantry, deciding Charles would be needing more food than what he had laid out. 

He worked quickly, with the practiced ease of one who cooks for others every night. (Which, in a way, Erik did. Sometimes the food didn’t get eaten, but that was beside the point.) By the time Charles padded into the kitchen from his shower, the salmon was done grilling on the portable grill, the rice was steaming in a pot, and the broccoli and asparagus had a few seconds left to steam, and there was a bowl of salad sitting on the counter. Erik popped in four slices of garlic bread as an afterthought, then motioned to Charles to grab plates and silverware for them. 

“Smells delicious,” Charles murmured, setting two plates out on the counter, as well as a pair of forks, knives, and spoons. 

“Mhm. Hand me a knife, would you?” Charles handed the utensil over silently, and watched as Erik sliced the lemon in half, then into smaller chunks, before scooping them into a little bowl and taking one slice out. He carefully spritzed some of the juice over the salmon, then tossed the slice into the trash. The timer for the asparagus and  broccoli went off, and Erik quickly removed them from the microwave and stove and set them on the counter, next to the bowl of salad. The garlic toast was next, and then dinner was ready. Charles looked over the selection, smiling warmly at him. 

“Worried I’m not eating properly again?” 

“No, I know you’re not. Pretty sure the last thing I saw you eat was a mug of coffee and some beef jerky two days ago.” 

“I had some waffles the other morning.” 

“I rest my case.” 

Charles smiled fondly at the taller man before shaking his head and going to hug him. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, face pressed into Erik’s chest. Erik couldn’t help but smile and return the hug, kissing the top of his head. 

“No need to thank me for taking care of the most precious person in the world to me.” 

Erik could practically feel the pleased smile crossing Charles’s face. 

“Now come on. Wine, and then we’re eating, and then it’s off to bed with you.” 

“What, no sex?” Charles teased in that quiet manner of his. Erik rolled his eyes and nudged Charles towards the plates. 

“Only if you’re awake for it when I get out of the shower.” 

Charles hummed in response, cutting a large portion of the salmon off for himself and sliding it onto his plate. He mostly ignored Erik’s teasing while he loaded his plate up with food, then seated himself at the small table in the dinning room. Erik followed after him, plate piled with much less food than Charles, and with two glasses clutched in his hand. He placed one before Charles and one before his plate, before heading back to grab a bottle of wine and return to fill their glasses. 

They ate in silence for the most part, Erik pleased with the way Charles was steadily working his way through the mountain of food on his plate. He hated when Charles got into one of his grooves, and forgot to eat or drink or shower. He was lucky if Charles remembered to use the bathroom during those times. 

“What’s your concentration for this semester?” Erik asked after a while, watching as Charles tucked one knee against his chest, brows furrowed like a teenager asked to recall something they’d learned last week. 

“Seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses.” 

Erik raised one eyebrow, sensing he was about to be severely lost. 

“Or rather, all the ways in which people fool themselves into believing life is really as wonderful as they think it is.”

“Ah.” Erik was always of the literal sense, and had he been in Charles’s position, he would have never chosen so abstract of a topic. He probably would have chosen something like ‘architecture’ or ‘old buildings.’ Those were things he understood easily. 

Charles rested his cheek on his knee, studying Erik. 

“Might need you to model for me.” 

Erik smiled, taking a sip from his glass of wine. 

“I suppose I can do that.” 

Charles returned the smile, looking absolutely exhausted. 

“Come on. Put your stuff in the sink, then head on up to bed. I’ll join you after a shower,” Erik said, finishing off his wine and picking up his empty plate and glass and taking them to the sink. The food had been mostly cleared away by Charles, and any leftovers he covered with a sheet of foil before nudging Charles down the hall and towards the bedroom. 

“Go on. I’ll be out in fifteen minutes, maximum.” 

“All right.” Charles stood up on tiptoe to press a soft kiss to Erik’s lips before heading down the hall, steps slower and more deliberate than normal, as the days of not eating and sleeping caught up with him. Erik waited until he had stumbled into their bedroom and crawled onto the bed before going to the bathroom; he knew from past experience that Charles was likely to return to his studio unless Erik herded him into the bedroom first. 

He showered quickly, not wanting to miss out on time with Charles, not when he’d finally pulled him out of his studio after three whole days holed up in there. He had grown accustomed to sharing a bed with Charles, and sleep didn’t come easily without him. He was looking forward to his first full night’s rest with Charles there. 

When he got to the bedroom, hair and skin still damp from the shower, he found Charles fast asleep on the bed. He was curled up in a ball, one arm tucked up underneath Erik’s pillow, his cheek pressed against it and other hand resting where Erik’s chest would be. 

It was in that moment that it hit Erik just how young Charles really was. He often forgot that he was only twenty when he had the serious air of a man twenty years his senior. But it was in that moment, laying curled up on their bed, in a pair of sweatpants and Erik’s too-big sweater, that Charles truly looked his age. 

Smiling fondly at him, Erik turned off the light and crawled into bed behind Charles, tugging the covers up over them both and tucking himself carefully behind Charles’s body, arm draped over his waist. Kissing the back of his neck, he settled down and closed his eyes. 

He’d never quite understand Charles as much as he liked, but he did understand this, the firm press of Charles’s soft body pressed up against his own, breathing deeply and sleeping soundly. 


	2. Breakfast for the artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Erik taking care of forgetful Charles. Prompted from this photo: http://loveydoveyecstasy.tumblr.com/post/19615737434#notes

"You're going to fall asleep on me back there." 

"No I won't. 'S just comfy back here." 

"All right, but if I burn myself cooking this bacon, you're in trouble." 

"Whatever you say, love." 

Erik smiled down at the frying pan, loving the way Charles felt pressed up against his back. It was their first Saturday together in weeks; Erik had been working well into the night on the blueprints for his latest building, and Charles had been holed up in his studio working on another series of projects. This weekend, Erik had finally decided to take the day off of work and spend it with Charles. 

It just so happened that Charles had finished his latest project the night before, after two nights of little to no sleep. 

Erik had offered to fix them breakfast on the condition that Charles would get some rest. Charles had agreed in his customary vague fashion, never quite committing to it, firmly believing that sleep was for the weak. 

He had, however, decided to settle with his forehead resting between Erik's shoulder blades, arms wrapped around his waist and holding him close. When Erik glanced down, he realized Charles was wearing one of his favorite long-sleeved shirts, well worn in with age, and perfectly soft to the touch. It made him smile as he placed the hash browns on a plate with a paper towel over it. 

A quiet snore stopped him in his tracks. Charles had fallen asleep on him, just like Erik had predicted. 

Sighing, he turned around and nudged Charles. 

"Charles. Charles, wake up." 

"Nn?" Charles glanced up, eyes bloodshot and bleary. 

"You fell asleep on me." 

"Oh." 

"Come on. You're going to go lay on the couch while I finish up." 

"Don't wanna." 

"Too bad." 

Erik easily maneuvered his exhausted boyfriend onto the couch, getting him to lie down and accept a blanket over him as he began to snore lightly. 

Shaking his head, Erik returned to the kitchen and finished making pancakes and eggs for them before going and waking Charles up. 

"Food's ready," he murmured. Charles cracked his eyes open, staring up at Erik in confusion before his face smoothed out and he sat up, rubbing at his eyes, looking very much like an overgrown child. Sometimes, Erik was slapped in the face with their seven year age gap when Charles did something that made him look so incredibly young. Even with his mountain man beard he looked like a child trying to play grown up. 

"Timeizzit?" Charles mumbled, swinging his legs over the couch and standing up with a large yawn. 

"It's ten o'clock on a Saturday morning, ahavah. Breakfast is ready, and you're going to eat all of it and promptly go back to bed." 

"Sure," Charles grumbled. Erik smiled and nudged him towards the kitchen. Charles stumbled in and took his customary seat across from Erik, and immediately dug into his food. He ate like a man who hadn't had food in several days. Most likely, he hadn't. 

Erik ate slower, watching Charles to make sure he wouldn't fall asleep in his food. He'd never known that dating an artist was going to be such a high maintenance job. Not that he minded, really, especially when it came to Charles, who was polishing off his orange juice and looking a little less dead for it. 

"There's more on the counter if you want," Erik prompted. He'd purposely made enough for three people, knowing Charles likely hadn't eaten for a good three days before this. Charles nodded and padded over to the counter to load his plate up and refill his glass. He finished his second helping by the time Erik got through his first. 

"Just put the dishes in the sink. We're going back to bed," Erik told him. 

"No." 

"Yes. You haven't slept in two days, and I have no plans of going anywhere. So get your scrawny little ass into bed and I'll join you shortly." 

Charles scowled at Erik but obeyed anyhow, heading back to their bedroom and crawling under the covers. By the time Erik got back there, Charles was out again, snoring and cuddling with Erik's pillows. 

Chuckling, Erik got into bed with him and wrapped himself around Charles's back. Charles stirred and attempted to roll over, but Erik held him still and began to card his fingers through his hair. It was fairly greasy, and Erik made a note to wrestle Charles into the shower when he woke up. Tomorrow. 

"Shh, ahavah. Go to sleep. I'm right here with you, and I'll be here when you wake up. Just get some rest." 

"Mmm." Charles made a high, whining noise that was almost a sigh before relaxing again and snuggling back against Erik. Satisfied, Erik continued to pet through his hair and hummed quiet Hebrew lullabies to himself until he fell asleep as well. 

They woke up periodically throughout the day, and each time, Erik held Charles close and pet through his hair. They watched parts of movies, until Charles passed out on Erik's chest again. Erik made them lunch and they ate in bed, and he called in a pizza for dinner, which Charles happily ate half of by himself, all without moving from the bed. They watched late night talk shows when Charles woke up in the middle of the night, until they both finally went to sleep for good. 

They didn't wake up until almost noon the next day, and Erik was perfectly all right with that. 

After all, when Charles woke up before him, he made a point of carefully getting Erik out of his clothes and nuzzling along his hips and the crease of his thigh and hip until Erik woke up and threaded his fingers through his hair. 

Charles had never been one to express himself with words. He did so with actions and images, and Erik knew that the gentle kisses and teasing swipes of his tongue to his cock were Charles's way of saying thank you. 

Erik sighed and relaxed back against the pillows, letting him work, his quiet moans and gentle tugs on Charles's hair his own way of saying  _I would do anything for you._


End file.
